


Christmas Conversations

by Feisty_Slytherin, lilac19822



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Wolfstar Big Bang 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 17:04:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19089349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feisty_Slytherin/pseuds/Feisty_Slytherin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilac19822/pseuds/lilac19822
Summary: Five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Sirius and Remus have made a life for themselves in a London flat with their young son Teddy. Feeling their relationship is teetering on the brink of decline, however, Remus doesn't know how to talk to Sirius about the distance he feels - or if their relationship is even worth saving.





	Christmas Conversations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Feisty_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feisty_Slytherin/gifts).



> This story is so different from anything I have written or have attempted to write in the past, and I love that. I never would have generated the idea or gave it a try without the influence of the accompanying art by Feisty_Slytherin, which makes me exceedingly grateful I got to participate in this mash-up.  
> While set in the original Harry Potter universe, the story assumes both Remus and Sirius lived and Tonks’ only relationship to either was being a surrogate mother to help them have Teddy.

Thursday, Dec. 25, 2003

How frost—by all accounts a careless, unguided, non-sentient entity—could be influenced to form an intricate collection of curlicues that extended in elegant tendrils and soft curves across a frozen pane of glass was beyond Remus, but it never ceased to amaze him. Except today.

Today, the delicately frosted windows in the kitchen of his flat held no magic. Nor did the levitating candles casting a soft amber light in the early morning darkness, nor the angular sprigs of emerald holly set with glistening crimson berries and tucked into various nooks and crannies.

The only item that matched his mood this morning—Christmas morning, of all mornings—was the gobs of black currant jam topping the plump shortbread cookies Sirius had been up late two nights before baking. They looked like incapacitated slugs, as wretched as Remus felt.

With his best effort, he tried to refrain from mentally replaying the events that transpired earlier that week, nor the ensuing stress that had gradually accumulated in the following days and now threatened to rupture through the surface of his self-composure like candy brittle. Of which Remus, surprisingly, wanted none, despite it being among his favorite holiday treats.  
  
In all honesty, he didn’t want to brood about life’s numerous injustices, which recently had posed yet another setback in his career…the one that couldn’t seem to catch traction.  
  
He didn’t want to feel stung that five years after playing valiant roles in a war that irrevocably altered wizarding society and politics, the professional world had welcomed a formerly convicted felon—who had since been exonerated, of course—more easily and with less suspicion than a werewolf, even though press releases from the Ministry of Magic boasted of “progress being made” in terms of magical creatures. Apparently the surname Black still held weight, regardless of the xenophobic, elitist ideals most of the renowned family’s members had taken to their graves.

Remus didn’t want to feel frustrated about how absent Sirius had been over the past three months while fulfilling his diplomatic duties with the Department of International Magical Cooperation, leaving Remus an unbalanced share of housework and childcare and an irritatingly miniscule amount of sex.

Most of all, he didn’t want to feel distant from Sirius, who didn’t seem to recognize or appreciate the weight of this concentrated resentment, pain, and frustration. He didn’t understand how after 32 years of friendship—two-thirds of which had been spent fulfilling the primary romantic roles in one another’s lives—Sirius still occasionally misinterpreted Remus depth of feeling as a lack of it. Just because his emotions traveled always inside his body, under his skin, beneath the surface, didn’t mean they were any less poignant than his husband’s flashy, unmistakable and unavoidable displays.

“Morning.”

 _Speak of the devil._ Remus glanced over his shoulder and caught the sight of the slightly disheveled hair, relaxed posture and questioning eyes. A wrinkled navy blue bathrobe hung loosely from Sirius’ slender frame, flashing the bare and delightfully pale flesh of his upper torso.

Remus inevitably felt the urge to melt. To cross the length of their shamelessly old-fashioned kitchen and pull his husband into a kiss. But the wall that had built slowly, brick by brick, over the past few months posed an indomitable obstacle that kept those visceral impulses trapped beneath their icy shadows.

“Good morning,” Remus swallowed, turning his glazed stare back toward the frost-bedazzled window.

“I see we got an ample helping of snow last night,” Sirius chirped into the silence before it could become strained. “Plenty of frost this morning.”

“Mmmm,” Remus hummed a noncommittal agreement as Sirius busied himself pouring a cup of black coffee and moved to join him by the window. “You sleep alright last night? You were out late again…”

It wasn’t an accusation. It wasn’t. But there was a release all the same, the rushed relief at the beginning of an attempt to communicate his frustration. Yet this was a stale argument, one that had long since lost its flavor, as Remus could tell by the unmistakable dulling of Sirius’ normally flashing eyes.

“Duty calls,” the raven-haired man sighed into his coffee, compelling a gust of steam to wash across his handsome face.  
  
 “You’d think duty could take a rest the night before Christmas Eve. No?”  
  
“We can’t predict when alleged espionage might happen and make plans around it, Remus. I was prepared to leave by 7, as agreed upon, but Mellick came in at the last minute with a tip that needed our immediate attention. That’s how it works in our game.”  
  
Remus could feel each muscle in his jaw clenching, the unpreventable grit of his teeth. This was among his least favorite of Sirius’ tics – resorting to subtle condescension when he felt on the back foot. All Remus wanted was an acknowledgement that Sirius’ tardiness – unintentional though it might have been – uprooted the plans they had made.  
  
Rather than walking through downtown London to admire the dispersal of pungent garlands and multi-colored light displays across corporate buildings, quaint cafes, and bustling shops, cups of rich drinking chocolate in hand, Remus had instead handled putting Teddy to bed alone and then fallen asleep early, mid-chapter, trying to not be bitterly disappointed about the cancellation of such trivial plans.  
  
Yet that same disappointment was currently nudging him again.  
  
“I know how your job works, Sirius,” he responded as calmly as he could. “I know it can be bloody demanding and unpredictable.”  
  
“Then what, Remus?” Sirius demanded, his deep voice pinched with frustration. “I don’t know what you’d have me do in situations like these – ”  
  
“Nothing, Sirius,” Remus interjected, still collected, still composed while pulses of strange sadness shot below the surface. “I’m not expecting you to do anything, or to deal any differently when these situations arise. I know you do what you must. I haven’t asked anything of you.”  
  
“That’s just it, though, isn’t it?” No longer steely and cold, Sirius’ eyes now glimmered with painful defeat. His voice was labored with aggravation. “You don’t ask. You. Never. Ask. And I’m left wondering what I can do to make you happy, to fix this. To fix _us_.”  
  
The final phrase struck Remus like an unexpected punch to the gut. Stunned and breathless, he gaped at Sirius until he could muster a spluttering of words.. “Fix _us_? What does that mean, Sirius? How broken do you think we are?”  
  
Sirius’ shoulders went lax as a weary sigh escaped his lips. One hand massaged his tired eyes while the other methodically clenched and unclenched by his side. “Not broken. That’s not … I fucking meant … I don’t think we are _irrevocably_ broken, you and I. Or us… this.”  
  
“But partially?” Remus pressed, loosening his composure to allow a trickle of the quiet desperation that had settled over his life to leak out.  
  
With his downturned face draped in silky black tendrils, Sirius’ crestfallen yet concise confirmation barely made its way to Remus’ ears. “Yes. Partially.”  
  
Remus registered the words, wondering what perception of the current situation and potential outcomes were encompassed in Sirius’ estimation. Before he could conjure a reply, however, a tiny shout broke from the back bedroom.  
  
Teddy’s boisterous request for attention brought Remus’ attention back to the present, particularly the bold-faced clock hanging on the wall. Straightening up and setting his jaw, he curtly turned away from Sirius’ slacken shoulders and miserable expression.  
  
“I’ll get Teddy dressed,” he said, rather cold than distraught. “Then we ought to get on with it. Harry and Draco are expecting us in two hours.”

 

* * *

 

In honor of the holidays, Harry and Draco’s bungalow was the perfect enlarged replica of a gingerbread house. Plump evergreen garlands hung from the trim, their emerald hue starkly contrasted with the mounds of white snow blanketed over the roof and each individual exterior fixture.  
  
Remus found it amusing that Harry insisted on living in the suburbs, even though it required him to rely on the floo network to take him to work at the Ministry each day. No doubt he sought to recapture some of the lost innocence of his youth, recreating a situation that should have been the ideal setup for a young orphan who was placed with family, and yet had been twisted and warped by toxic prejudices.  
  
When Harry had first announced the young couple’s plan to move to the small single-story bungalow with its quaint porch, verdant yard, and overgrown garden, Remus and Sirius had been heartily entertained by the prospect of the young Malfoy heir being transported so far from his posh, extravagant upbringing.  
  
“How domestic. What a perfect housewife he’ll make,” Sirius had joked.  
  
Yet, despite their shared amusement, Remus couldn’t help wondering if that simpler, less-stressful environment was exactly what Draco needed acutely after his dramatic and troublesome adolescence. Regardless, the widely acclaimed Auror and former high-profile socialite seemed right at home in the quiet neighborhood.  
  
Remus carefully cradled Teddy against his chest as they stepped through the fireplace at the Malfoy-Potter residence. With both hands occupied, the lack of physical contact between himself and Sirius would be less obvious, he hoped. Sirius, standing deliberately apart from him with his hands shoved into the shallow pockets of his tight black pants, seemed to agree that masking the tension with a gauzy façade was in their best interest.  
  
“Just get through this without them noticing,” he murmured stonily.  
  
Yet when Harry burst into the living room bounding with puerile glee, Sirius’ entire countenance changed. Remus felt his gut twist uncomfortably as he watched the obligatory geniality Sirius had caked on for appearances crumble effortlessly in the presence of his beloved godson. It was with a twinge of near jealously that Remus realized Sirius’ instantaneous transformation to absolute ease and energy only seemed jarringly abrupt because he had not witnessed it himself in several weeks, if not months.  
  
_When was the last time that happened upon him coming home?_ Remus wondered, swallowing against the painful lump in his throat and inadvertently tightening his embrace on the wiggling toddler in his arms.  
  
Glancing past the exuberant bespectacled young man, Remus caught sight of a languid blond form arched casually against the doorframe.  
  
“It’s been ages since we last saw you!” Harry exclaimed jubilantly, still clutching his godfather’s forearm.  
  
“I know. Certainly seems that way,” Sirius replied. “We’ve been meaning to visit sooner, but you know how busy it’s been with work.” The two shared a look of understanding.  
At last moving forward, Harry wrapped Remus and the boy in his arms in a hug.  
  
“He grows exponentially every time I see him,” Harry brushed a hand through the gently waving blue atop Teddy’s head, and then opened his arms expectantly. “I can’t let him get old without being around more often. I don’t want to miss anything.”  
  
Remus obligingly passed off the child, watching with pleasure as Teddy excitedly placed both small hands on either side of Harry’s face, repeatedly exclaiming, “Un’le ‘arry, un’le ‘arry!”  
  
“Well, come in, come in,” Harry led them deeper into the modest but stylish living room, trying to extricate his glasses from Teddy’s grip.  
  
“Hello, Sirius, Remus,” Draco stepped forward, friendly but not yet familiar enough to offer affection as a form of greeting.  
  
“Make yourselves comfortable,” Harry called from the kitchen. He wasted no time finding a frosted sugar cookie in the form of reindeer to slip into Teddy’s awaiting hands. “We expect the rest of the party to arrive here shortly.”  
  
Sirius seemed to greatly welcome that news. He fed off energy created by a small horde of young, merry revelers hell-bent on having a good time.  
  
“Who all is coming?” Remus asked tentatively.  
  
“Everyone,” Draco muttered drily, his lips quirked in a sardonic smirk.  
  
“Don’t worry, grandpa,” Sirius drawled, winking at his husband. “I’m sure there’s some secluded corner you can escape to for a quick reading expedition if the crowd of an entire dozen people enjoying themselves becomes too overwhelming. I know that’s not really your _thing_ anymore.”  
  
Remus bristled slightly, finding himself uncommonly defensive in response to Sirius’ mocking. Maybe it felt too personal considering the bridge steadily rising between them. Suppressing the odd irritation, he responded with as much energy as he could rally, “I’ll have you know, Sirius Black, I can work a room with every bit the charm you can, while also avoiding your uncanny propensity to create a spectacle or make everyone pine for the dream of an earless world.”  
  
“Rather loquaciousness than an inability to translate your thoughts into words, depriving people the right to know what the bloody hell you’re thinking,” Sirius scoffed. “Relationships don’t have to be a guessing game.”  
  
Remus didn’t realize they had completely skipped past playful banter and dove headfirst into verbal sparring until he noticed Draco and Harry share a quick, worried glance.  
  
“Touché,” he forced himself to smile, hoping it could effectively lighten the mood before it threatened to spoil the exquisite party his godson-by-marriage had put together.  
  
To his relief, a bright, full voice burst out from behind them, “We’ve arrived! The party can officially commence.”  
  
Trailed closely by a short, Rubenesque brunette, Ginny Weasley strode into the kitchen, arms laden with a bevy of hideously wrapped presents that she unceremoniously dropped on an open counter. “I swear there ought to a spell to put these bloody gifts together, but damned if I know what it is. Remind me to ask Hermione. Seems just the sort of thing she would have read somewhere, once upon a time.”  
  
Harry laughed appreciatively, giving his ex-girlfriend’s offered hand a quick squeeze. “Well, it’s the thought that counts. And for that, you are still welcome to a cup of butterbeer. Or some whiskey if you like. I know how you are when you manage any time away from Quidditch pitch.”  
  
“Mmm,” Ginny considered for a moment, picking up a stray present that had fallen to the floor in her haste. “Better make it a butterbeer. We’ve got loads of time to get good and pissed later. Wouldn’t want to start searching for the mistletoe or an empty closet too soon.”  
  
The brunette’s cheeks grew slightly red at the insinuation, but she nevertheless stepped forward confidently, extending her hand to Harry and then Draco. “Happy Christmas!” Her voice was tinged with a subtle German accent. “I’m Marta. I’d apologize for my girlfriend’s brashness, but you’ve all had claim to Ginny longer than I have. I’ve heard ever so much about you all,” she passed a smile throughout the room. “Thank you for having us over.”  
  
Before long, the entire kitchen and living room were bursting with bustling bodies as the other guests arrived in couples or even small groups – Hermione and Ron, Neville and Luna, Theodore Knott, Daphne Greengrass, a few of Harry’s colleagues from the Ministry who Remus didn’t recognize, and a pack of Weasleys, many of whom were accompanied by their partners and young families.  
  
It didn’t take long for the libations to begin flowing generously while the raucous party effortlessly devoured trays of cold pheasant and ham, pickles, breads, puddings, and other delicacies. Presents were distributed without ceremony, and the revelers even managed to collectively sing a few carols accurately before a few of them decided it would be vastly more entertaining to start making up their own lyrics, producing somewhat alarming results.

* * *

  
Remus enjoyed catching up with several of the young people he had spent a year teaching, as well as a few former Order members. Yet several hours in, he found himself in exactly the position Sirius had ungraciously foreshadowed earlier in the day –- depleted of energy and in need of respite. Noticing Draco sitting alone on the powder blue sofa, looking vaguely uncomfortable, Remus felt an odd sense of familiarity.  
  
_I recognize that expression_ , he mused, pouring a second cup of steaming butterbeer and making his way to the quiet corner.  
  
“Happy Christmas?” He smiled gently as the younger man glanced up in surprise.  
  
“More or less,” Draco smirked, accepting the offered drink. “I may need something stronger than this to make it a certainty, though.”  
  
Remus chuckled. “Sure enough.”  
  
“Our first time doing the whole ‘putting on Christmas’ thing,” Draco drawled, sweeping his gaze across the merry crowd permeating their sitting room. “Not exactly my strongest suit. But Harry couldn’t wait to _host_. He’s talked of nothing else for a week and been preparing like mad. Looking forward to having his whole lot back together again in the same place, he said.”  
  
Remus suppressed a laugh. That also felt acutely familiar. “Friendship comes easily to him.”  
  
Draco gave a slight nod. “That’s always been the theme. It used to irritate me to no end during our school years.”  
  
“I remember,” Remus hoped his teasing tone would soften the edge of beckoning forth memories of how much of a right prick Draco had been in his younger years.  
  
As if to demonstrate his maturity, Draco offered a perceptively rueful smile. “I’m sure you do. I can say, I have become mostly accustomed to his uncanny ability to draw people to him like flies to honey.”  
  
“It’s merely difficult feeling at home in the swarm?” Remus asked knowingly.  
  
“That’s about the size of it.”  
  
“The best part, though, is when it’s all over and you get to be the one that sticks around to enjoy the quiet moments with them.” Remus let himself blissfully consider the thought – the memories of settling down with Sirius after every storm – before he remembered the words Sirius had spoken earlier. _Broken_ , he had said. _Broken. Breaking. Breaking apart_. The words alone ignited a low, burning fear in the pit of his stomach.  
  
_Don’t let your mind wander_ , Remus chided himself, choosing instead to focus on Draco’s suddenly guarded expression.  
  
“I still find it challenging at times,” Draco mused, the noticeable darkening of his gray eyes betraying the practiced nonchalance he instinctively assumed, “Being in this circle… or rather, on the outskirts of it. I’ve yet to feel … to believe I’m a necessary part of it, I suppose. It shouldn’t worry me – wondering if any residual animosity remains, because of … everything.”  
  
Remus let the statement settle comfortably before carefully choosing the words for his response. “I can understand that. I’ve certainly been on the outside more times than I can count. But no doubt you recall, at the end of the day, that you belong. Your place is with Harry. And that’s where you’ll always belong.”  
  
Draco’s gave another short nod, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. “With Harry.”  
  
“Before long,” Remus continued cautiously, worried that accidentally bumping a raw nerve with Draco would inevitably cause the polished, guarded young man to shut down, “you will be used to this. To Harry’s world and his friends. I swear. And they’ll know your truth, they will let themselves see you the way he does… Well, maybe not _exactly_ the way he does.”  
  
Draco mirrored Remus’ smirk, taking the opportunity to re-shroud his vulnerability and return to more comfortable ground. “And for you? How did you confront those situations where you felt like the outsider? What helped?”  
  
“Pr- James. And, even more so, Sirius.” The answer was out before Remus could allow himself to weigh it, to absorb the implications, instead feeling them like an unexpected slap across the face. Pushing past the sudden emotion that painfully constricted his throat, he added, “From day one, when I found myself haphazardly placed in the rowdiest room in Gryffindor, Sirius made it clear, on no uncertain terms, that becoming ‘one of them’ was non-negotiable.”  
  
Remus glanced down to notice his right thumb and forefinger subconsciously twisting the pewter band encircling his left ring finger. The pad of his finger dragged over a particularly deep scratch, the result of an impromptu and passionate interlude that had taken place in a darkened alleyway the night they moved into the first flat they officially leased together as a married couple. “That never changed.”  
  
It was his turn to be on the receiving end of Draco’s thoughtful gaze. “And now your circle has grown to encompass three.”  
  
Remus couldn't help grinning at the thought of Teddy. “That’s right. It’s interesting that when you love a person so intensely and clearly it somehow creates the space for yet another person, it produces the ability to love them quite equally. What a curious multiplying factor love possesses.” He shook his head, blushing with self-effacement. “Fuck, that all sounds a bit sappy… the unfortunate result of the combination of this dangerously sweet drink, perfunctory Christmas jazz, and three decades of memories.”  
  
Draco shrugged graciously. “Seems like the appropriate time for it… Truth be told, Harry and I have been sharing more of our own conversations on that topic lately.”

Remus turned toward the young man curiously. “About… multiplying?”  
  
“Something like that,” Draco smirked. “Harry wants a family dreadfully. He wants to experience all that, to know what it’s like. I’ve known that for years. It’s what made me so hesitant to commit to him in the first place. I wasn’t certain I could join with him on that.”  
  
“It’s a big decision to make,” Remus said slowly, worried where this conversation could be heading but determined to see it through to the end. “You don’t have to feel prepared to do it right now… or ever, for that matter. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea.”  
  
“Oh, yes, I know,” Draco responded hurriedly. “Trust me, I’ve ruminated on the matter, more than I should. Harry hasn’t exerted any pressure on me in that way. I’ve determined on my own it’s something I want, as well.”  
  
Remus let out a silent sigh of relief. He knew Harry and Draco were as different as oil and vinegar, a contrast that had worked shockingly and beautifully in their favor since the conclusion of the Great War. But possessing opposite feelings about raising children was an insurmountable odd.  
  
“And you feel certain?”  
  
“I do now. The whole idea scared me shitless. Still does, at times.”  
  
“Hear, hear.” Remus agreed drily, raising his nearly empty mug.  
  
Draco chuckled. “I didn’t realize that it was … at least manageable, if not easy, until… well, until I got to know you and Sirius. Really got to know you as a couple.”  
  
Remus felt his breath catch his throat. He knew they were treading a subject that to him seemed filled with a dozen theoretical landmines. Of course, Draco didn’t – and wouldn’t – know that, so he sat silently, letting the silver-haired young man explain.  
  
“I didn’t know the sort of teamwork it required to raise a child, at least properly.” Draco wasn’t looking at Remus, but his voice continued boldly. “My parents complemented one another in a way. But it was a business arrangement, their marriage. And it didn’t foment the sort of multiplying love you mentioned. I was an asset to manage, not a human to build a relationship with.”  
  
Remus once again felt the pang of familiarity. He felt deeply loved by his parents, especially his mother, early in his childhood. But he knew what it was like to be regarded as a thing to be controlled – in his case, a potentially dangerous monster, not a valuable asset. Without his mother around to ensure Remus remained fully human in estimation, that warped conceptualization metastasized in his father’s mind, persisting until he could get rid of the problem by sending Remus to Hogwarts.  
  
“I wondered at my capability to give a child affection and respect when I didn’t know what that looked like. And now … I do,” Draco at last turned toward Remus, his expression open in a way Remus had yet had the pleasure of observing. “You and Sirius wanted a child, true, but you don’t take him for granted – no matter what challenge he poses. I know it’s not always easy. Harry will mention things,” he blushed slightly by way of apology, “but you are on the same team. And you laugh. Together, with Teddy. He’ll treasure that memory – of laughter, of taking delight in his existence and what it brings.”  
  
From the start, Remus had felt steadily and poignantly moved by Draco’s description, but the sensation was also streaked by embarrassed guilt. He wanted to be sure he gave Draco an honest representation. “We both are consumed with love for Teddy. And that responsibility certainly poses its unique set of challenges. … We don’t always find ourselves on the same side, though, and even occasionally, we’re deeply divided.”  
  
Draco’s cocked eyebrow was artful, almost sly. “I’ve noticed as much. But you find a way to travel the divide, or better, to seek out the middle ground. I’ve seen that happen a dozen times. Whether it’s Sirius wearing you down with his smile or you getting through to him with reason, you end up together.”  
  
A sudden urgency imploded within Remus. The desire to be close to Sirius was stronger and clearer than he had recognized in weeks, creating a worried restlessness. _How could you have let it get this far?_  
  
Not wanting to dismiss the meaningful vulnerability Draco had shared with him, however, Remus suppressed the prickling urgency long enough to respond truthfully, “I’ve seen you and Harry accomplish the same task – finding the middle ground. Not with children, true. But in other ways. And it all comes down to the same drive to wind up on the same side, no matter what it takes.”  
  
Draco’s countenance warmed with fondness and Remus suspected his thoughts and desires were traveling toward his own beloved partner. “What a world of difference a decade can make.”

“And who knows what the next 10 years will bring?” Remus agreed brightly.  
  
“I’m glad that, if we do have a child, they’ll get the chance to grow up with you and Sirius around. And Teddy, too.”  
  
Remus downed the last of his butterbeer and stood up. “Speaking of which, I should probably go find him. Last I saw, Luna was teaching him how to detect Wackspurts.”  
  
His brief search led him to the giant, fragrant fir tree dressed in rainbow-colored bulbs creating small spheres of gentle light, gaudy tinsel and an eclectic assortment of ornaments, ranging from expensive heirloom pieces to modest glass balls and simple handmade pieces. Underneath the iconic Christmas stalwart, Sirius lay on the floor with Teddy, laughing as his son pulled off handfuls of shining tinsel and dropped them on his father’s ebony tresses, which had been elegantly swept back from his face and tied together. The little boy burst into unabashed giggles and clapped his hands in delight as the strands descended over Sirius’ scrunched up face and into his lap.  
  
“I like that look on you,” Remus sank to the floor beside his husband’s lithe body, stretched out on a plush, golden tree skirt.  
  
Sirius glanced up in surprise and then gave a hesitant smile. “Well, you know, I rarely find anything that can improve my hair —“  
  
“Such luscious hair that it is,” Remus jokingly conceded with small tip of his head.  
  
“But,” Sirius continued brashly with a smirk, “this may be the headwear that could actually accomplish such a monumental and coveted feat.”  
  
“And once you start promoting this elegant style, there’s nothing that can stop it from becoming en vogue in a heartbeat,” Remus chuckled, brushing the few remaining stubborn strands from Sirius’ hair, along with the one caught on his earring.  
  
A subtle look of confusion passed over Sirius’ liquid silver eyes, and Remus opened his mouth to offer something — an explanation, an apology, an unsolicited declaration that he was irrevocably in love with this person — when Teddy gracelessly deposited a fistful of golden tinsel into his own soft honey-colored curls. Sirius burst into laughter.  
  
“You see, the trend is already spreading like wildfire!”  
  
Remus made his best sultry-model face, which only doubled the mirth of both his husband and son.  
  
“Alright, you lot. Time for the obligatory family portrait to commemorate the holiday!”  
  
Remus turned to find Harry, cheeks flushed and raven hair resembling his father’s more than ever, holding a camera poised for taking a photograph.  
  
“For pros-pos-posterity!” Harry added, stumbling over the word in his contentedly lubricated state.  
  
Remus shook his head good-naturedly, still not entirely accustomed to seeing his young godson in such a state, but obligingly scooped Teddy onto his lap. Sirius returned the favor of combing the remaining tinsel from his curls and then leaned in while Harry snapped several photographs.  
  
Remus didn’t know if it was a testament to the many weeks it had been since they had made love or Sirius’ irreplaceable pull on his affection that feeling Sirius’ slender shoulder pressed against his own ignited a sense of deep-rooted longing. Remus leaned into the contact, pressing his lips into Teddy’s hair as Harry finished the impromptu photo shoot.  
  
“Harry, would you mind taking Teddy for a few minutes?” He asked once the unsteady flash of the camera had subsided.  
  
“I can,” responded the posh voice of Draco, who had appeared at Harry’s side to spectate the festivities. He gingerly scooped Teddy from Remus’ arms, looking surprisingly natural embracing the small body to his cashmere-covered chest.  
  
Sirius’ face registered surprise as Remus grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet, but easily complied nonetheless. Feeling all of 18 again, Remus led him through the double-doors onto the Potter-Malfoys’ frosted back yard.  
  
Once outside, enveloped in the frigid air but rather impervious to its existence, Remus turned to his husband and pulled his face toward him, kissing him deeply.  
  
The surprised noise issued from Sirius’ throat quickly turned into a soft moan as Remus’ tongue brushed against his pliant lips. Remus let himself get lost in the kiss, in the immense and immediate relief it brought, for a few seconds before pulling back and assigning words to articulate the emotions tangled inside him.  
  
“I’ve missed you.” It was abrupt, but accurate. Chewing on his wet lip, Remus looked down and tried not to think about what he wanted or needed to say, but just let the words make their own way out of his mouth. If they didn’t now, he knew he would scurry back up behind the barrier that seemed built between them. “I felt - or do feel — distant from you. And confused and helpless. Have so for a while now.” He stared down at the intricate threads of ice etched between the cracks in the brick patio, but kept Sirius’ hand firmly locked in his own. “And... I don’t know... I feel like ... like your life has grown apart from mine. And we aren’t going the same direction. And that makes me terrified, but also... I suppose somewhat immobile, for whatever fucking reason.”  
  
When he glanced back up, Sirius was gazing back at him tenderly. “You should have said something, Moony!” He gently cupped Remus’ jaw. “I’ve felt helpless, too, watching you retreat, it seemed. But not knowing why or what to do.”  
  
“I know, I know,” Remus sighed, resting his head against the cradle of Sirius’ palm. “It’s still difficult, you know? After losing you for all those years, when I needed you the most, and having to deal with it like I did — by creating a shell even thicker and stronger than what I worn when I was younger. After all, you managed to get through that one in no time,” his lips twisted upward, “so I figured I needed something stronger to survive after... well, after.”  
  
“We’re both still works in progress, Moony.”  
  
Sirius pulled Remus closer until their foreheads gently rested against one another. “I’m not as good at communicating as I once was, either. And to a degree, it’s felt like we’ve had to learn each other in entirely new ways during the past seven years, while still surrounded by turbulent circumstances for the most part.”  
  
“We’ve both developed methods to cope with living traumatic, unpredictable lives,” Remus agreed. “It’s like we don’t know what to with a ‘normal’ one.”  
  
“I know.” Sirius’ voice was soft and apologetic. His hand slid past Remus’ jaw so his fingers could curl into the hair sweeping up at the nape of his neck. “After fighting for survival in Azkaban, I worry sometimes I don’t have much fight left in me. It’s like I’m emotionally and mentally spent in ways that are unrecognizable to me. And that only makes me feel disoriented and paralyzed, as well.”  
  
Remus nodded, venturing further into the raw, unvarnished honesty they both needed at the moment. “That hit me this morning. When you didn’t even argue. You seemed so utterly... defeated. Like there was no point in fighting. Like you were ready to give up.”  
  
“Of course not!” Sirius pulled back briefly, shocked. “Never indefinitely.”  
  
“What you said about breaking – ”  
  
“I didn’t expect you to take it like that!” Unexpectedly, Sirius’ supple lips quirked upward. “Admit it, Remus, we’ve always been partially broken, you and I.”  
  
“Yes, that’s true,” Remus conceded with a raspy laugh. “And we’ve always helped put one another back together again.”  
  
“That’s all I meant,” Sirius assured him, pressing his intertwined hands into the small of Remus’ back. “That something seemed broken in our relationship. That it needed work. Not that I wanted to leave it broken.”  
  
Remus’ heart swelled relief and he let the sensation travel through his body in the form of a deep sigh. Eyes shut tightly to obstruct the exit of any untimely tears, he spent the next few seconds feeding heartily on the feeling of being close to Sirius once again.  
  
Before long, Sirius broke the silence. “You’d rather we be fighting, Moony?” he teased, though still tentative, it seemed, to make light of the situation.  
  
“I’d rather we be doing this, Padfoot.” Remus lifted Sirius’ face toward his once more, this time capturing his slightly parted lips in a tender, sensual kiss that allowed him to slowly, deliberately venture into his husband’s warm, wet mouth.  
  
Keeping one hand along Sirius’ throat, he took his other lower — over the curve of his shoulder, to the flat plane of his chest and down the alluring lines of his sinewy waist. Sirius stepped closer, pushing their bodies against one another, combining their warmth and making it easier for him to wrap his arms tightly around Remus’ body and press desperate fingers into the muscles flexing in his back as their kiss deepened.  
  
Feeling drunk on his husband’s taste, Remus moved his lips off Sirius’, over the welcomingly rough stubble on this jaw and down to his throat. As it had routinely since the first time the men had made out as sixth-year students, Sirius’ head dipped back, inviting Remus’ mouth the suck at the sensitive skin there. His appreciative groan met Remus’ ear with force, sending the blood coursing through his veins and intensifying his arousal. Pushing his hips against Sirius’ body, Remus found him similarly hard and eager for friction.  
  
Remus took a step forward, guiding Sirius along with him, finding the porch rail behind them and hoisting his husband on top of it. Never breaking the contact of their mouths, Sirius easily widened his thighs, allowing Remus to get even closer until their hips ground effortlessly against each other.  
  
It didn’t matter that it had been several weeks — perhaps even a couple months — since they had moved with each other in this way. It came as naturally then as when they were 16 and had at last confessed feelings for one another, as when they were 20 and making love before one of them headed off on a particularly dangerous mission for the Order, as when they were reunited at Grimmauld Place seven years ago after Dumbledore deemed it safe enough for Sirius to return to London and they eagerly sought to make up for 13 years of lost time.  
Sirius’ legs tightened on either side of Remus, whose hands roughly caressed the flesh covered by tight black leather, lingering to squeeze Sirius’ taut ass and wishing the weather allowed him more intimate access to the delicacies hidden beneath the fabric.  
  
Sirius let out a groan of frustration as Remus pulled back, breathless and flushed. “It’s been too long, Moony!”  
  
“Whose fault is that, Padfoot?” Remus shot back lightly, allowing himself a single stroke of his hand over Sirius’ visible, and obviously engorged, cock and causing the man to audibly suck in the brisk night air.  
  
“Yours. Absolutely. No question,” Sirius responded adamantly, clasping the brown corduroy of Remus’ jacket to yank the man closer to him. His lips inches from Remus’, he added in a suggestive whisper, “If you’ll just talk to me next time, Moony… I’ll know exactly what you want me to do to you. Every single dirty thing.”  
  
A short laugh was all Remus could muster in light of the hardness pressing against his slacks. “I’ll take that as a promise, Mr. Lupin-Black.”  
  
“As you should,” Sirius responded, giving Remus a final, fierce kiss. “Now, Mr. Lupin-Black, let’s go gather our son. I’m ready to take you home.”

 

* * *

 

[Artwork for Christmas Conversations ](https://feisty-slytherin1027.tumblr.com/image/185359032386)


End file.
